STRESS

Felix and I have parties. We have lots of parties. We have lots of big parties with lots of people. I create a theme for each party. Every party has a different theme. Every theme involves everything at the party being related to the theme (invitations, food, decorations, plates, thank yous, loot bags/take home gifts). Before every party we have a huge fight and both of us threaten to call all of the guests (usually between 40-60ppl) and cancel the party. Felix and I then have a party.

The fights we have had in the past are comical in hindsight. One, in particular, comes to mind… a few Christmases ago we were hosting our annual Christmas party. There are a few traditions we carry through all of our parties and one happens to be cupcakes. This Christmas I have found and bought Christmas themed cupcake cups and put them away somewhere for safe keeping. Fast forward. Day of the party, 4 hours before guests arrive: I need to make the cupcakes so they can cool and can be iced before the party, but first I need my Christmas cupcake cups… “Felix, hunny, where are the Christmas muffin cups I bought last month?” (Felix used to have a wonderful answer to questions like this) “I don’t know” he replied and walked away and so began a HUGE blow out. We fought in the house about the cupcakes, we fought in the hallway about who was calling everyone, we fought in the parking garage about who was gonna get to storm off in an angry huff (I won this one as I had the car keys). I went to a friend’s, cooled down and eventually returned home with a snack for Felix accompanied by his favourite bottle of wine. We had a splendid evening, and no one noticed that the cupcakes were NOT baked in Christmas cups. We found the cupcake cups a year and a half later as we were packing up our condo to move, and we laughed.

Today was a Holiday in Ukraine (I don’t know which holiday, I know the church was open… they have LOTS of holidays here). The family has been in a tizzy for 3 days getting ready to have a small dinner party. Including the family, there was to be 10 people sitting around the dinner table, and I think we cooked enough food for 40; including, but not limited to a full cow heart – ventricles and all! There was a lot of work to do today, and the clock was ticking away. I was aware of a potential storm brewing last night as I was up on the computer waitint to talk to felix and Mama was pacing back and fourth – she was in pain she said – and I worried about her lack of sleep the night before the big day.

I was right, about 2 hours before the scheduled arrival of our guests the apartment erupted – apparently all 4 of the white table cloths had been forgotten about, and for some reason at the moment the iron was not working. It was a catastrophe. There were tears, and yelling, and slamming and stomping. I was struggling to follow along at the beginning, and eventually excused myself to my room as I decided it was a family moment ad my being there might provoke more stress by heaping on embarrassment to the pile.

Once things had calmed down a little bit and the stomping and slamming turned into weeping I emerged and tried to disarm the situation – in broken Ukrainian I tried to explain that it really wants a HUGE deal, and there was nothing we could do about it now. My message didn’t really get across I was told that I didn’t understand how important it was to have a white table cloth in Ukraine… I still thought it was a small detail (and when I tried to explain this she thought I was telling her that she was acting like a little child, rather than telling here it was a small detail – but this wasn’t my worst language blunder of the day…).

I have to say it was so interesting to be on the outside of this one. To watch temperatures and stress levels rise and finally peak. I tracked the warning signs and could relate with every stage of the stress. But the most interesting part was realizing that the things that trigger these stress blowups are usually soooooo unbelievably trivial and inconsequential. I know that if I was mama and someone told me what I was telling her I’d want to smack them (I’d probably want to do more violent things to them, but I wont detail those here), and there would be no sense in trying to calm me down. But seeing it from a spectators perspective lent a whole new lens to these stress situations.

What I realized is how silly these fights look from the outside – really? That kind of a fight over MUFFIN CUPS?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? When I am in these situations I say and do exactly the same things. Blowing up doesn’t solve the problem it just makes everyone feel like crap. The striking realization was how silly one looks when engaged in this kind of behavior… and I don’t think I ever want to look like this ever again! The tears and the stomping and the slamming and th yelling didn’t get mama her white table cloth, and they didn’t find me my muffin cups. In the end we both just lost time, and had to take up more time being the puppy with our tail between our legs apologizing to the people around us who we abused.

I guess the bottom line is that no one is immune to stress, and it really is all in the way we handle it. Realizing that these stressful situations cause me to act like a child and abuse the people I love over trivial b*llsh*t is a good thing, and will hopefully give me pause to think about my actions the next party we have (it’s looking like thanksgiving for anyone who’s interested…). It was a neat learning experience… And turned out to be a great dinner even with the blue table cloth.

Looking forward to the next (fight free) party

*love*